My experience of an eating disorder Tuesday 30th June 2020. For many it was just another lockdown day, in a year to be forgotten but this is one I will always remember. Being escorted to hospital in disbelief, in denial that things could ever have gotten so bad. Still believing in my mind that I was okay and didn’t need this kind of help, that I could do it by myself – despite no longer being able to walk unaided up the stairs, struggling to lift myself off a chair and having to ask my family for help getting dressed. It was a turning point for me, the moment I was hit with the reality and the severity of my eating disorder, the long-lasting damage that I might have done. And, with all control taken away, I was confronted with the power that it had on me. I’d known for a while that I was struggling, my friends at uni months before had told me they were worried. We’d agreed that it was anorexia – that I was showing those traits, that I needed to do something about it. And I tried. But